Chapter 8 Unexpected Encounter

Lily's POV

The receptionist tapped something into his computer, then nodded. "Ah yes, Ms. Lily. We've been expecting you." He gestured to a hallway on the left. "Please follow that corridor to the supply entrance. David will meet you there to accept the delivery."

"David?" I asked, confused. "I thought I was supposed to meet with Alpha Blake?"

"Yes, that's normally the case," the receptionist explained smoothly, noting my confusion. "However, he just informed us that he has a temporary arrangement, so he entrusted the inspection to David."

Relief washed over me. I wouldn't have to face the Alpha after all. "Thank you," I managed, my shoulders instantly relaxing.

I followed his directions down the plush corridor, my wolf still bristling but noticeably calmer. The storage area was surprisingly elegant for what should have been a utilitarian space. Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with bottles of premium liquor.

A man in his early thirties looked up as I entered. He wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing tattooed forearms. His smile was warm and professional.

"You must be Lily," he said, extending his hand. "I'm David, head bartender. Alpha asked me to receive the flowers today."

I shifted the box to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you."

David gestured to a clean workbench. "May I?"

I nodded and placed the box down. David pulled on a pair of thin latex gloves before carefully opening the box. He examined the blood bat flowers with expert eyes, his gloved fingers moving delicately among the crimson blooms, never touching the petals directly.

"These are exceptional," he said, genuine appreciation in his voice. "Much better quality than last month's batch. You're new at Green Thumb, right?"

"Yes," I answered, surprised by his observation. "Just started a week ago."

David looked up with interest. "You clearly know your way around these rare specimens. Not many florists understand the specific requirements for preservation." He resealed the box carefully. "Blake will be pleased. He's particular about ingredients for our signature drinks."

I shifted uncomfortably. "As long as they meet the requirements, that's all that matters."

David seemed to notice my nervousness. "First time at Dark Moon? You seem tense."

"Is it that obvious?" I tried to laugh it off.

"Hey, we're not all scary here," he said with a friendly smile. "You caught us on inventory day, which is chaotic. Why don't you take a moment to relax before heading back? I can offer you one of our non-alcoholic specialties—on the house."

Before I could decline, he was already leading me toward a small bar setup in the corner of the storeroom. "This is where we test new mixtures. I've been working on a virgin berry blend that customers love."

"I really shouldn't—" I started.

"It's just fruit and sparkling water," David assured me, already grabbing a glass. "Standard courtesy for our suppliers."

I hesitated but didn't want to seem rude. I perched awkwardly on a stool while he expertly mixed something with fresh berries and clear liquid from an unmarked bottle.

The moment he pushed the completed drink toward me, the fruity aroma hit my nostrils, and my body went rigid.

A half-empty bottle of blackberry schnapps on the coffee table. Dad sprawled on the couch, his words slurring as he called for me.

"Lily-flower, come sit with daddy."

His breath reeking of sweet alcohol as he pulled me onto his lap, his grip too tight, his movements unpredictable.

Mom's whispered pleas in the kitchen. "Frank, please, she needs to go to bed."

The crash of a bottle against the wall. My seven-year-old self frozen in terror.

I stood up so abruptly that the stool nearly toppled over. "I'm sorry—I need to go. Darius is waiting in the van."

David looked startled. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," I said quickly. "Thank you for checking the flowers."

I turned and practically bolted from the room, my heart hammering against my ribs. I needed air. I needed to get out of this place that smelled of liquor and awakened memories I'd worked so hard to bury.

I retraced my steps down the hallway, but halfway to the exit, my wolf stirred violently within me. Not in fear or discomfort, but with sudden, intense interest. Her attention snapped in the opposite direction, toward a set of double doors that presumably led deeper into the establishment.

What are you doing? I mentally questioned my wolf.

She had been resistant since we arrived, but now she was practically clawing to go further in. This made no sense. I turned toward the exit, but my legs felt heavy, as if she was physically resisting.

We need to leave, I insisted, but my wolf's pull was becoming difficult to ignore.

A burst of applause and cheering erupted from beyond the double doors. My wolf's excitement peaked, sending a jolt of adrenaline through my system. Before I could rationalize what I was doing, my hand pushed against one of the doors, and I slipped inside.

The main hall of Dark Moon was breathtaking. Vaulted ceilings supported by dark wooden beams. Plush booths lined the walls, while the center space had been cleared of tables. A crowd had gathered in a semicircle around what appeared to be a performance area.

I pressed myself against the wall, trying to remain inconspicuous while fighting the internal battle with my wolf. She was practically howling with excitement, a sensation I'd never experienced before. My wolf had always been the cautious one, the voice of reason.

What is wrong with you? I silently demanded.

The crowd roared again, drawing my attention to the center. A man stood there, surrounded by an elaborate setup of bottles, shakers, and glasses. His back was to me as he performed what looked like bartending tricks, but with a grace and precision that transcended simple showmanship.

He was tall and powerfully built, his movements fluid yet controlled. He wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The audience gasped as he sent bottles spinning through the air, catching them behind his back without looking.

My wolf was transfixed. And despite myself, so was I.

As his routine reached its climax, he ignited something in a shaker, creating a controlled column of blue flame that elicited gasps from the crowd. When the flames died down, he poured the contents into waiting glasses that glowed with an ethereal blue light.

"Shadow King! Shadow King!" the crowd chanted as he took a modest bow.

My heart was pounding unnaturally fast. My wolf was practically vibrating beneath my skin, as if she might force a shift right there in public. I'd never felt her so strongly, so desperately eager.

We need to leave. Now. I tried to turn away, but my body refused to obey.

That's when it happened.

Mid-bow, the performer froze. His head snapped up as if he'd been struck by lightning. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head, scanning the crowd with predatory intensity.

And then his eyes found mine.